


Player Substitution

by ended_up_here



Series: Player Subsitution [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Different Teams, Gen, Rated T+ for language or whatever, seirin!akashi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-26 05:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2640140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ended_up_here/pseuds/ended_up_here
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"First off, in the black uniforms, Seirin High. Their supervising teacher is Takeda Kenji. The coach is Aida Riko. Now, we'll introduce the starting lineup! Number seven, center: Kiyoshi Teppei! Number six, forward: Koganei Shinji! Number four, shooting guard and captain: Hyuga Junpei! Number twelve, forward: Furihata Kouki! And, lastly, number two, point guard and member of the prodigal Generation of Miracles... Akashi Seijuuro!" </p>
<p>X X X</p>
<p>What if they had all gone to different schools?</p>
<p>X X X </p>
<p>In an attempt at rebellion, Akashi  Seijuro decides to go to Seirin instead of Rakuzan to spite his father. There, he joins a team vastly different from the one he'd led at Teiko, a team that forces him to readjust his idea of basketball, the meaning of a team, and the meaning of victory. </p>
<p>IMPORTANT: edited 3.20.15. rereading may be helpful since some plotpoints have changed!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rebellion, Recruitment, and Regret

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i don't have any ownership over knb; Fujimaki-sensei owns it. also, i used some dialog from the manga, so that's not mine either. I took some artistic liscence to it to make it sound more fluid and natural, like you'd hear in everyday conversation and to fit the speakers tone etc. 
> 
> also, this is obviously au, so while a lot of it will be generally the same, there will be various things that have been changed from canon.
> 
> *important: I wasn't planning on making this shippy, but if enough people request it I will consider it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do I need a reason to play? I want to play. That's all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: Edited 3.20.15! Rereading may be necessary since some plotpoints have changed!

Akashi Seijuuro stalked the entire thirty minutes of his walk to his new school, back straight, emperor eyes glaring, causing kids and grown adults alike to dart out of his path in a frenzy. People usually avoided Akashi Seijuro in general, but people would avoid angry Akashi Seijuro like a dead fish that had washed up on the beach and left to spoil in the sun.

Akashi's father was trying his best to make Seijuuro regret his decision to attend a small school to study the social sciences rather than a big, elite boarding school his father picked out to study business.

Seijuro absolutely refused to study business for the sole reason that his father wanted it. He never let anyone tell him what to do, even if it was his own father. It was the same reason why he refused to attend the school his father picked out, no matter how much he wanted to go. The school had state-of-the-art athletic facilities and a top tier basketball team, but Seijuro couldn't bring himself to regret his decision yet. Granted, he hadn't actually stepped foot on the campus yet, if you didn't count the orientation tour for interested students.

So, his father, determined to make his son submit, refused to let Seijuro get rides to school in the family car. If you want to find your own school, find your own way to get there, too, his father had said. If you had gone to the school of my choosing, this would not be a problem for you, would it? There were a variety of other punishments: no help to clean his room or prepare his meals, stricter curfew and longer mandatory study hours, but Seijuro felt -- in that moment, at least -- that the 'no-rides' punishment was the worst. A dark, twisted feeling surfaced in his chest, and the boy gritted his teeth so that he wouldn't snarl in anger.

On one hand, Seijuro hated being treated like a lesser being and letting his father control him, but at the same time, he was determined to show that his father had no influence over him, so he swallowed his pride and started walking. He was glad he set out early (to avoid spending too much time with his father, who might be struck with a sudden bolt of inspiration regarding another punishment that would torture Seijuro even further).

Spinning his basketball in between his hands in an attempt to calm down and avoid doing something that would get him locked up, Seijuuro surveyed his new school: Seirin. It was nice, in a simple, humble way. It was more normal than he was used to, to be honest, and Seijuro wrinkled his nose as he looked around. He didn't want to go to some big, elite academy, but he didn't really have much knowledge of average schools when he'd made his decision. Seeing the yelling, shouting idiots running between booths like barbarians, Seijuro wondered if he'd made the right choice. He was stuck here now, with these dumbasses.  

Seijuro scowled dangerously and stalked towards the orientation booths, beelining for a map of the setup. He didn't want to spend any more time in this crowd than he had to. He cut through the crowd easily, his commanding presence causing people to part. They would quiet down as soon as they caught sight of his deadly glare and hostile posture, then shy out of his path like dogs with their tails between their legs. All around him, club members were picking out people that looked like promising recruits, but no one dared to single out Seijuro. Catching sight of the basketball in his hands and his intimidating aura, the recruiters left Seijuro alone. Instead, they focused on some of the idiots around him.

"Aren't you interested in rugby?" an enthusiastic rugby club member yelled at a muscular first-year.

"If you're Japanese, you should play baseball!"  A baseball player yielding a metal bat nearly beheaded his potential teammate.

He walked the rows of tables briskly, having failed to find a map, but keeping his ears open for any mention of basketball.

Finally, he caught sight of a trio of guys promoting the basketball club. They looked weak though, and Seijuro again wondered if he'd made the right decision. He huffed and set off at a brisk pace towards them.

"Excuse me," Seijuro called, commanding their attention instantly. "Show me to the basketball club booth."

It was funny, really (and a bit depressing), how scared they got. The tall, quiet one with dark hair turned to stone instantly to draw as little attention to himself as possible by remaining still, like Seijuuro was some sort of insect. The other dark-haired boy's grey eyes went wide. He hid his emotions well, but Seijuuro could tell from his tense shoulders and the way his hands were crumpling the flyers in them as he held them too tightly that he was nervous. The loud one reacted by screeching and jumping behind the quiet boy and stuttering out words that Seijuro couldn't understand (He could only understand one: eyes), shaking like a leaf.

Seijuro glared condescendingly down at the boy currently squatting with an arm around his friend's knee. He discreetley rolled his eyes. "Show me to the basketball club booth. I want to sign up."

Scaredy Cat squeaked something that sounded like, "Fits general ton meek curls cat in." Seijuro didn't understand a word of it, so he ignored it.

Trying to gather his wits, Loud Mouth cleared his throat. He tried to smile kindly but failed-- it came off as more of a please don't step on me face. "Er… L-Letter… Lego…" Not able to speak properly, Scaredy Cat gave up and motioned for Seijuro to follow him instead.

Seijuro did, perfectly content, somewhat used to this type of reaction. He sighed. It was sad, really.  

Scaredy Cat brought him to a table that was pretty empty compared to the others around it. One of Seijuro's fellow first years was just about leaving, a ordinary guy that, in Seijuro's opinion, was weak and therefore forgettable. At the table sat a girl and boy. On the left, a girl with short brown hair. She was plain and Seijuuro almost passed over her, but something caught his attention. She probably had some special talent. Was she the manager, like Momoi Satsuki from Teiko? Did she have an ability similar to Momoi's talent for analyzing opponents and their potential? Next to her sat a dark haired boy with rimless glasses. He looked bored, and was downing what looked like his sixth cup of tea. He had potential, Seijuuro decided begrudgingly. It hadn't been realized yet, but he probably had potential. Probably.

"I-I brought back a new student…" Scaredy Cat whimpered, finding his voice again.

The pair's eyes fixed on Scaredy Cat, then slowly drifted to Seijuro. He could tell the instant that they placed where they'd seen his face before. At first, their expressions showed only interest, but once they recognized him, their jaws dropped and eyes widened. Seijuro waited.

The girl snapped out of it first. "Yes, yes, take a seat." She gestured at the fold up chair just vacated by the previous recruit. As Seijuro sat, she placed a cup of tea in front of him. He eyed it distrustfully before crossing his arms across his chest.

"I think you know already, but our school was barely opened last year All the upper clansmen are still just second years, so somebody with your… uh, talent will immediately…"

"That is irrelevant," Seijuro interrupted. He thought back to when he had helped Tetsu realize his full potential, and wondered if maybe he could do the same for the Seirin players he'd met so far. He groaned internally. It seemed like a burden. He thought he was done babysitting his teammates after Teiko. "I'll just write my name and go back." His first class started in half an hour, and he wanted enough time to go and introduce himself to his teachers.

Seijuro filled out the sheet, putting as little information down as possible.

"Huh? You didn't write down your reason for playing basketball?" the girl noticed as she looked over the form.

"Do I need a reason to play? I want to play. That's all," Seijuro said with a dangerous edge to his voice, daring the girl to question him further. When she didn't ask anything else, Seijuro said, "I'll be leaving, then."

He could hear the girl and boy interrogating Scaredy Cat behind him, who was slouched across the table with his head down.

Seijuuro scowled and growled under his breath. Everyone within a five meter radius of him scattered.

Please… Don't prove my father right… he begged whatever deity was listening.

x x x

Seijuro kept to himself that afternoon at practice, not that he had any need to. The other first years avoided him like people usually did, but he could see them glancing in his direction occasionally. He glared at them and they would quickly look away.

"Alright, everyone seems to be here," the girl announced. Seijuro frowned. She wasn't acting like a manager would… more like… a coach? No, that couldn't be right. Seirin had a teenage girl as a coach? God, what had he gotten himself into?

"All the freshman come this way!" she instructed. "I'm the boy basketball club's coach, Aida Riko. Nice to meet you."

Seijuro remained stoic, even as his fellow first years jumped and exclaimed in surprise. Absolutely done with everything and no longer having any energy for annoyance, he decided to reserve judgement until he saw this coach in action. He looked over at the advisor as Riko introduced him, wondering if he was going to suddenly drop dead at some point during the practice. He looked very fragile; too fragile to be an advisor of a sports club, much less a teacher.

"First things first," Riko announced, catching Seijuro's attention again. "Take off your shirts!"

Seijuro pulled off his shirt without questioning the order, rolling his eyes as he heard the other freshman complain and resist. Their reluctance was irritating, and stupid. He knew that, one way or another, the freshman would end up with their shirts off, just like the coach had ordered. Lo and behold, he was right. I always am.

Riko walked up and down the line of shirtless recruits, her eyes scanning them critically. Seijuro might've thought she was doing it just as an excuse to look at guys with no shirts on, but she was calling out observations as she looked over their bodies.

"You," she said harshly, causing a boy down the line from Seijuro to jump. "Your instantaneous strength is weak. I guess you must do around 50 steps for 20 seconds on the quick ladder training, right? If you want to play basketball, you'll have to improve that a bit." She moved on to the next boy in line, paying the last one no further attention. "Your body is too stiff. Train your flexibility after getting out of the bath!"

Seijuro watched in interest as Riko continued down the line, and from the looks on the other first year's faces, she was getting everything right.

"Her father is a sports trainer," one of the senpai told the confused underclassmen. "He was always recording data in order to make training menus. It's a special skill she gained after spending everyday at his workplace looking at muscles and data. By looking at someone's body, her eyes see all its abilities and stats."

Seijuro stared back at Riko as she looked him over, her mouth a bit agape and her eyes bugging out.

"What?" he demanded coldly.

Riko snapped out of her trance. "Sorry! Sorry! So, er--"

"You saw everyone right? That guy was the last?"

Riko checked her clipboard and nodded in confirmation. "That should be all of the new recruits." She looked up, tucking her clipboard under her arm. "Alright, everyone, five minute warmup jog then stretching and dynamics! Make sure to stretch well!"

x x x

"How was school today, Seijuro?" Seijuro's father seemed to cram as much contempt into his question as possible. "The walk was not to bad, I hope?"

Seijuro remained blank faced, staring at his plate. "I enjoyed it very much," Seijuro lied in a voice just as empty as his face. To be honest, his new school was just alright and his team was weak (the coach was interesting, but no player caught his eye), but he knew that it was a million times better than any school his father would have chosen. "I think that I will learn a great deal in my classes."

That part wasn't a lie: his classes looked like they would be challenging but educational. Seijuro had definitely chosen the right school for what the hoped to do in the future. So what if Seirin wasn't some honored boarding school that sucked in teenagers and pumped out future millionaires like lungs exhaling? Seirin was good enough, and, as an added benefit, it pissed his father off. That was good enough for Seijuro.

"Seijuro--" his father began in a harsh tone, and the younger Akashi immediately knew that he was about to launch into one of his famous long-winded speeches where the moral was always 'Listen to me or end up dead in a dumpster.'

To avoid the talk he really didn't want, Seijuro shoved his plate aside and stood up quickly. "I apologize, but I must excuse myself. I have much to work on."

Seijuro made a beeline for the door, ignoring his father's indignation.

x x x

At practice the next day, Riko announced a four-on-four match between the first years and the second years. She had originally intended to have a full court five-on-five, but there were only four first years.

"A match against the senpais, that means…!" one startled first-year exclaimed from besides Seijuro.

"So you remember what they told us when we joined the club? Their result from last year…" another replied. "Last year, with only freshman, they made it to the final league!"

"Seriously?"

"That's not normal…"

"It doesn't matter," Seijuro spoke up, tired of his teammates' lack of confidence. He was a bit surprised to find out that Seirin had done so well, being so weak.

He walked forward, electing himself as the one to take the tip-off, even though one of the other first-years (Fukuda Hiroshi, or something) was taller than him. If they were going to cower like scared dogs, Seijuro decided that he'd just have to do everything himself. A little difficult for a point guard, but not impossible.

The second-year who was also taking the jump ball (Mitobe) was almost half a foot taller than Seijuro and looked kind of unsure as to whether or not Akashi was the best choice. Seijuro dared him to argue with a withering glare. Mitobe cringed but managed to stand tall, even if he couldn’t quite look Seijuro in the eye. Everyone else more or less accepted that Seijuro would be taking the jump ball without much fuss after that, so the game began.

Seijuro was unsurprised when he won the tip off, managing to knock the ball to Furihata Kouki, a petite, petrified brunet, who stared at the ball in his hands like he'd never seen a basketball before.

Seijuro rolled his eyes before gesturing for a pass. Do I have to do everything myself? God, is there anyone on this team that isn’t weak? He wondered bitterly as he received the pass and dodged quickly past his mark. He dodged in between the captain Hyuga Junpei, and the Scaredy Cat, Koganei Shinji. Finding himself in free space, he jumped, launching a flawless three pointer. He turned away before the ball passed through the basket, leaving the rest of his team behind.

Seijuro continued to be disappointed with the level of his opponents, as well as his teammates. The second-year’s inside was weak, and they lacked a good power forward and small forward. Right now, Tsuchida Satoshi and Koganei Shinji were the forwards, but they were barely average. Compared to the forwards of Teiko, they looked like children.

On the first-year’s team, Furihata was the first year's small forward and Kawahara Kouichi was the power forward, but they hadn't been doing anything special. Their defense needed a lot of work too, as well as their attitude and mindset. You couldn't play basketball with an attitude like many of the first-years had. Seijuro was surprised that they hadn't willingly handed the ball to their opponents, whimpering 'Please don't kill me!'.

Even three marks- Hyuga, Koganei, and Izuki- couldn't stop Seijuro. In the end, the first-years won, forty-eight to twenty-six. All of the first year's points had been scored by Seijuro, apart from one two-pointer from Furihata. Seijuro still couldn’t figure out how a boy that weak had managed to score at all.

At one point, the captain, Hyuga, had asked him, "Um, you're a point guard… right?", probably since Seijuro had been playing all five positions by himself.

The match had concluded quietly, everyone treating Seijuro like he was highly volatile dynamite that would be set off at the slightest jostle.

Partly for his own amusement, Seijuro, before leaving the gym to begin on his long walk home in the dark, turned to his teammates and called in his usual deadpan, "I’m leaving. I will see you all tomorrow."

 

 


	2. Purposes, Point Guards, and Practice Matches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Is there any other reason to play basketball other than to win?"
> 
> edited 3.19.15

Seijuro stared out at the horizon, trying to figure out exactly how he had ended up on the roof of his new school so early in the morning, faced with a possibly psychotic basketball coach and such pathetic classmates.

"Isn't it five minutes before the beginning of the class' morning meeting?" Seijuro asked stoically, trying not to let his annoyance bleed into his voice. He failed, and everyone around him cringed. "We're going to get in trouble if we're not there."

"Yeah, hurry up with the test!" Fukuda hissed from a meter or so beside him.

A test? Seijuro didn't know about any test. It didn't matter though, he would ace it anyway.

"Before that there is one thing I have to say," Riko said, waving aside Fukuda and Seijuro's concerns. "Last year I made a promise when the captain asked me to become the coach. We're playing basketball to aim for the nationals! If you're not ready ready for this, feel free to go to another club! I know that you guys can play, but I want to check something more important than that."

Seijuro frowned in confusion.

Riko looked each first year in the eye, but when she got to Seijuro, he noticed that she was actually looking at his forehead, rather than his eyes.

"No matter how seriously you practice, you'll always stay weak if you think, "maybe one day I'll do it". I want you to have a big concrete objective and the will to achieve it no matter what. That's why, now, from here, you will shout your class number, your name and your goal for this year!!" Riko paused slyly. "If you can't fulfill your goals, next time I'll have you confess to the girl you like completely naked!"

Seijuro didn't react as the first years freaked. This is starting to become a pattern, isn't it? God, how annoying.

"I said it earlier, but you really need a big, concrete hurdle. If you're thinking of "Let's pass the first round" or "I'll do my best!" I want you to fix that!"

"What should we do… wait-- she's serious?!" the other first years whispered.

“Is there any other reason to play basketball other than to win? Why play if you aren’t trying to win?” Seijuro asked, glaring at the coach then the ledge. “Why do I need to do this?” He turned to glare at his teammates. “If they need to do some ridiculous charade to strengthen the resolve they should have had when they joined in the first place, then fine, but I will be going now.”

Riko scowled but nodded reluctantly, not brave enough to deny him. No one had gotten the courage to say 'no' to him yet. Good.

She held out a form. "Fill this out to be officially in the club, and you'll be all set."

Seijuro complied, shoved the flyer back at Riko, then walked for the door. He wanted to get out before a teacher showed up.

Unluckily, he ran into the teacher sent up to yell at them halfway down the stairs, and was forced to turn around and go right back up the stairs to endure the scolding with the coach and the rest of the first years.

Seijuro stalked into his class with a murderous glint in his eyes. His classmates threw each other out of the way to get out of the way.

X X X  

Seijuro's day continually got worse as it went on. First, after the fiasco on the roof, he received a lot of new material to study outside of school. Then he had eaten lunch by himself, and some of his classmates decided to confront him about ‘being fucking weird’ (they quickly learned their lesson). Then, his pen had exploded down the front of his uniform.

When he arrived at practice, Seijuro was ready to vent his overwhelming frustration through basketball.

No one on his team dared come near him, so Seijuro spent the beginning of practice shooting three after three, moving along the three-point line as he shot. The others were on the other side of the court, running some drill that was practicing a skill that Seijuro had mastered during his first months at Teiko. The coach was strangely missing, which was probably the only reason why Seijuro was allowed to skip out on the team drills.

"Hey what happened to the coach?" One of Seijuro's teammates asked their captain. Seijuro paused in taking his shot and looked over to find out what was going on. "I know she was supposed to look for an opponent for a practice match, but… she’s back already, and it looks like she's skipping. Seems like she found a team."

Seijuro wondered who they would be playing. Maybe someone weak, like Shinkyo, Nozomi, or Nakamiya South? Or maybe someone a bit more interesting, like one of his teammates' new schools- Touou or Shutoku?

"She's skipping?!" Hyuga exclaimed, utter terror obvious on his face. "You'd better be ready, everyone! If she's skipping, that means our next opponent is gonna be a strong one."

At that moment, Riko entered the gym at a skip, like the first-year had said. "I'm back! Sorry, I'll get changed immediately!" She headed off, but seemed to remember something and turned back. "Oh, by the way… I got a match ready with a school that has one of the "Generation of Miracles!" she exclaimed happily.

In sync, all eyes turned to Seijuro, who ignored their stares and turned to Riko instead. "Which one?"

The coach only smiled secretly, then skipped out.

"Oh, we're screwed," one of the first-years moaned.

Seijuro tuned everyone out. He could have given his I am absolute, I do not know defeat speech, but he didn't want to bother coming any closer than a stone throw to friendship with his teammates. He wasn’t here to make friends; he was here to win.

Another first year shrugged and snorted, then murmured under his breath, "Well, we do have that monster, though…"

Seijuro nailed another three from next to the end line of the court, knowing that they were talking about him. He debated turning and glaring at his teammates, but decided to ignore them.

The coach returned soon after, and the team gathered to hear the announcement.

"We'll be playing Touou Academy!" the coach eventually burst out

Seijuro concealed his surprise. He'd expected someone weaker, or, at best, passable. Not Touou, which was a contender for the Interhigh championships.

"Touou Academy is one of the schools that gained a member of the Generation of Miracles: Murasakibara Atsushi."

X X X

 

Seijuro expected the following days' practices to be brutal. He hadn't expected that the coach and captain would come to him with a problem: like he had noticed earlier, Seirin lacked a sufficient small forward and power forward. Riko and Hyuga asked him for his advice, which surprised him. Member of the Generation of Miracles or not, he was still only a first-year who had just joined. In fact, he had originally thought that his status as a Miracle would prevent the second-years from asking for anything, since they didn't want to give him proof that he was in any way superior, even if they knew it was true.

"What do you think we should do, Akashi-kun?" Riko asked. She tapped her pencil tip on her clipboard, a roster pinned in between the metal clip and the plastic. Some names had positions penciled in beside them, like Hyuga Junpei, #4: Shooting Guard or Kiyoshi Teppei, #7: Center (inactive). The only small forward was a second-year, Koganei Shinji, and the only power forward at all was another second-year, Tsuchida Satoshi.

Seijuuro looked down the list. According to the coach's notes, there was only one shooting guard, the captain. He would undoubtedly be playing that position then. There was two centers, including the inactive Kiyoshi. The other was Mitobe Rinnosuke, a boy that was even quieter than Tetsuya (but more visible, of course). There were, however, two point guards: Seijuuro himself, and a second-year named Izuki Shun. The three other first years, Kawahara, Fukuda, and Furihata, weren't given a position.

"You think that Tsuchida and Koganei aren't strong enough," Seijuuro stated.

Riko protested immediately. "That's not the problem. We need to come up with a line-up. It doesn't matter how strong or weak Tsuchida and Koganei are."

So she knows that they're weak, but doesn't want to admit it, Seijuuro noted. He looked down at the clipboard he had taken and gazed at the names dispassionately. "Some are obvious," he said, changing the topic. "Shooting guard, center-- you only have one of each, and the players are adequate."

"Hey!" Hyuga protested, but Riko shushed him, listening intently to what Seijuro was saying.

"Point guard -- I’ll leave that to you.” Seijuro tried to hide the threat in his voice, but failed. “As for the small forward and power forward, you're right. You do have a problem in that regard."

"What do you mean you?" Hyuga interrupted again. "You're a part of this team now. I think you mean we."

Seijuuro stared at him stoically. "I don't care. Forwards, no forwards, it doesn't matter. I always win."

Hyuga seemed to be at a loss for words, opening and shutting his mouth a couple times before shaking his head.

"Who would the forwards be, then?" Riko mused. It wasn't really a question that she expected an answer to from Seijuro, but he gave one anyway.

"We have the three first-years who could potentially fill those slots, as well as Tsuchida and Koganei. For the first-years, I'd say that none of them are really prepared to fulfill the expectations we have of them. I think the optimal picks would be Furihata and Koganei, though."

"Eh? Furihata-kun?" Riko exclaimed, looking surprised and confused. "He's only been playing for a short time!"

"Yes, so he has little skill, but he is cautious and level-headed. He is a supporter, which isn't ideal, but would work well with the passing style that is characteristic of Seirin. If he improved enough and learned to, instead of supporting others, attack for himself, he may be able to play the position."

Riko and Hyuga stared at Seijuuro with their mouths open.

"How were you able to learn that much about his playing style in three days?!" Riko demanded.

Hyuga snorted. "It's kind of creepy."

Seijuro turned back to the roster again. "As for Tsuchida, he is a forward with the mind of a center. Unless he can gain the correct mentality, he's useless," Seijuro said brutally. "We already are lacking strong forwards, we don't need to diminish that any more. As for Koganei, he is athletic and has good stamina and game sense. He's completely ordinary, but he has a solid grip of the basics and experience from last year. He also has an all-around shooting ability. It’s far from perfect, so it will need practice. The center also needs to be a strong rebounder to gain advantage from Koganei's shots."

"So Koganei and Furihata need to work on shooting and Mitobe needs to work on rebounds," Riko summarized.

Seijuro shrugged. "I'm not recommending anything in particular. I'm stating what I see as objectively as I am able, and letting you make the final decision."

Riko snatched the clipboard back from Seijuuro and began to scribble on it. Seijuro watched her expressionlessly, waiting for any further questions.

"Alright, it's settled then!" she exclaimed after a moment, surprising him. "The rest of the week, you and I will be working personally with Koganei, Mitobe, and Furihata to prepare them for the match."

Seijuuro, with all of his education and dignity, could only think of one thing to say: "…What?"

X X X

Seijuro wasn't a stranger to being a coach-type figure, but this was the first time he'd really coached someone. He'd helped Tetsuya find his full potential, but what he was doing now with Furihata and Koganei was a lot different. With Tetsuya, he'd just given a lot of hints and subtle nudges to help the ghost boy, but with Furihata and Koganei, he was training them with one-on-ones (or two-on-ones) and intense drills.

"Don't hesitate so much, I'm not going to kill you," Seijuro commanded the shaking Furihata in front of him. He was supposed to be trying to dodge around Seijuro and shoot a simple lay-up, but he was so nervous that he couldn't stop shaking.

"It's like seeing a mouse stare down a lion," another teammate muttered from the sidelines, where the rest of the team was taking a water break. Koganei giggled shrilly from under the hoop, where he was waiting for his turn.

It was a bit annoying that they were both so scared of Seijuro that they couldn't even play. This was a bit of a setback. Seijuro had decided that Koganei and Furihata were the best choices for the forward positions, but he hadn't counted on them both being so spineless. It kind of made him angry, because Furihata and Koganei were making him look like an idiot for choosing them.

"Come on, you can do this perfectly when I'm not in front of you!" Seijuro demanded. "If you turn into a trembling mess when faced with an opponent, you'll never be of any use in a game."

"I'm trying!" Furihata stammered.

Koganei meekly called out his agreement from behind them. "You're not the easiest person to play against!"

"Our opponents won't be either," Seijuro snapped, becoming genuinely angry. "Now, do it right!"

"Y-yes!"

X X X

Seijuro scanned the pristine facilities of Touou with ambivalence. They were nice, but he didn't really care all that much about the quality of where they were playing. He cared more about the quality of the team they were playing. Not that it would change the outcome in the end, though, but Seijuro wanted to test his plan. Furihata had improved greatly, and Koganei’s accuracy had improved greatly. Seijuro had been surprised by the Scaredy-Cat; he wasn’t as weak as he thought he’d be. And by not as weak, Seijuro meant that he didn’t suck.

Seijuro wasn't worried about losing, but he was a little worried about whether or not the strategy would work. If it didn't that would make him look bad. He was the one who suggested it, after all. He shouldn't be so worried, though. Of course, Seijuro reminded himself. This will work. I am always right.

Seijuro heard Touou's team before he saw them. He could hear Murasakibara whining, along with someone apologizing profusely, someone yelling loudly, and someone cackling in amusement.

"D'you think that's them?" Izuki asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Seijuro answered, forging ahead. "That's them."

Things were still a bit uncomfortable between the point guards after Seijuro had gotten the starter position over Izuki. It wasn’t animosity, per se, Seijuro’s talent was undeniable and he was obviously better than Izuki anyway, but the idea of being benched by a kouhai obviously dented his pride. He seemed to accept it for the good of the team, though. Seijuro hadn’t tried to console him. In fact, neither had spoken more than a couple words to each other.  

Seijuro turned the corner and saw one of the strangest scenes he'd ever witnessed. His old teammate, Murasakibara, was standing with four other guys, probably his team. He held a bag of snacks, like usual, and was trying to continue eating while a loud blonde yelled at him about nutrition and a small, mousy-haired boy apologized for existing. A dark-haired guy with glasses was dribbling around, dodging in between the three, laughing hysterically, and a tall brunet with his hands over his face in exasperation.

"Hello," Seijuro said emotionlessly, interrupting the scene. All five of them froze in place, not moving a muscle, their eyes locked onto Seijuro. "Am I interrupting?"

He could sense the rest of Seirin behind him, a little disbelieving at what was occurring.

"Oh! Aka-chin!" Murisakibara exclaimed, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Atsushi," Seijuro nodded in greeting.

"You must be Seirin's team!" the sly looking, bespectacled moved forward to greet them, tucking the ball against his hip. "Hajimemashite." He approached Seijuro, his arm out in greeting, but Hyuga quickly cut in front of the redhead.

"I'm the captain, actually," he said neutrally, but there was an underlying challenge in the words.

The captain position hadn't been something Seirin had discussed, or, if they had, it hadn't been a discussion Seijuro was part of. He wasn't offered the position, and he hadn't asked for it. Obviously he wasn’t the right person for the job anyway. He had failed in his duties of leading his team at Teiko, and in the end, they couldn’t even call themselves a team. He didn’t deserve the position.

The Touou players looked surprised, but tried to hide it. Well, most of them did.

"Eh? Aka-chin? You're not the captain?" Murasakibara drawled lazily. "Why not?"

Seijuro glared at his former teammate. "I didn't want to be." That was true enough, he decided.

Glasses cleared his throat. "Let's move on, then, shall we?" He smiled brightly, shaking Hyuga's hand easily. From the way Hyuga tensed, though, Seijuro could tell that the Touou captain wasn't all sunshine and unicorns. "I'm Imayoshi Shoichi, the captain. We were sent to greet you all. Well, technically Otouto and Ryo were, but Otouto got sidetracked, so Wakamatsu and Susa were sent to find them, and I was sent to meet you."

No one on Seirin said anything. Seijuro could feel their wariness and confusion radiating off of them from behind him.

"Erm, Otouto?" Hyuga finally summoned the courage to ask.

Imayoshi jerked his thumb in the direction of the purple-haired giant. "He's like the baby of the team, so we call him Otouto."

Seijuuro scowled. He didn't want to be bothered with this. He just wanted to play basketball.

Riko seemed to be thinking the same thing he was. "Will you show us to the gym, then? I want to make sure we have enough time to warm up."

"Yes, of course," Imayoshi said. It was a simple statement, but his tone made it seem like he was about to start squirting you with a paintball gun or slip a whoopee cushion under your ass.

"I don't like him," Furihata murmured from Seijuro's shoulder. He hadn't moved from his spot even when they started walking. "He gives me the creeps."

"He does seem like he's hiding something," Seijuuro said neutrally.

Over the long couple of days that Furihata and Seijuuro had worked together, they had formed a tentative friendship. Well, it was less of a friendship and more of a I-know-you-better-than-anyone-else-here-and-I-don't-really-hate-you-ship. Koganei, on the other hand, was usually found with the silent center, Mitobe.

"How are you feeling?" Seijuro asked.

Furihata looked surprised. He probably wondered why Seijuro was concerned about his well-being. He realized quickly, though, that Seijuro was, of course, talking about basketball. "I think I'll be okay," he said, confidently enough for someone in his position.

"Good," Seijuro said. "Let's go, then."

X X X

The game wasn't going well.

It was to be expected that there would be some rough patches, but Seijuro was having trouble finding any part of the game that wasn't a rough patch. Furihata was too nervous to do all that much (although he did manage to score a couple of points), Hyuga's three-pointers were being completely shut down by the combination of Murasakibara and his regular mark, Sakurai Ryo. Koganei’s accuracy was at about 50% due to a combination of nerves and being closely marked by the power forward, the blonde number six.

Seirin was keeping up, though, mostly thanks to Seijuro -- or rather, all thanks to Seijuro. Out of their forty-three points, Seijuro had scored twenty-nine of them. They still trailed behind Touou by ten points, and the gap was continuing to widen.

Seijuro breathed out through his nose sharply as he toweled off his face. Unless Furihata and Koganei could start playing at full potential and Hyuga could start evading his marks to make some threes, the game would continue the way it had began, and Seirin would lose.

He would lose.

He would not lose.

He cannot lose. He never loses.

"This isn't going to work,” he spoke up in a demanding voice into the silence.

"Then will you please tell us what will work then?!" Hyuga snapped, frustrated by his lack of success.

"Firstly, Furihata. Stop being nervous and do what you've been doing all week."

The brunette stiffened, then blushed sheepishly. "Sorry. I'm trying... It's my first game."

Seijuro frowned. That was no excuse, but he probably shouldn't tell that to Furihata. Chances are it would only freak him out more. "Well, you've played for a while, so you've become more acclimated. Now you can play like you normally do."

"H-hai!"

"We also need some three pointers to draw the defense out from the inside." Seijuro turned to look at Hyuga.

"I know, I know," Hyuga exclaimed in exasperation. "I'm working on it."

Seijuro was going to give more advice, but the buzzer signaling the end of the halftime break.

He gritted his teeth, quickly adding, “Koganei, you need to make your shots as well.” He followed his teammates out to the court.

The whistle blew, and the second half began.

It was different this time. Furihata and Koganei were playing comfortably like they always did, and, despite being tasked with the daunting challenge of controlling the inside virtually by themselves, he was doing well. Hyuga managed to get a couple three-pointers in, but Murasakibara had a solid cover over most of the inside (which also allowed the other players to mark the outside). There were definitely many things that still needed to be worked out, but it was a start.

"We're coming back!" Tsuchida shouted from the bench. "Keep it up, guys!"

Seijuro snagged a ball moving between Touou's captain and shooting guard and passed it to Furihata, who ducked under Murasakibara's block and managed to snag a basket.

When the final buzzer sounded, Seirin emerged as the victor, 76-69.

X X X

Seijuro wasn’t planning on staying to talk to his old teammate, but when Murasakibara called him as Seirin was packing up, he decided to make an exception.

The two met outside the gym. Passerby stared and chuckled at the 35 cm height difference, but quickly moved along as Seijuro glared haughtily at them.

Seijuro hated being the shortest Miracle. Sure, there was Kuroko, but he was a passing specialist. He didn’t need height to pass, and he didn’t shoot or block much. Seijuro’s lack of height made it harder to command the same respect as someone who was as physically intimidating as Atsushi.

“I was surprised you went to Seirin,” Atsushi said finally through a mouthful of Nerunerunerune candy. “Nii-san said that they weren’t good.”

Seijuro didn’t react. Mentally, he went through each member of Touou, finally deciding that Nii-san must be the captain, Imayoshi. “I didn’t decide on my school based on the basketball team.”

“Eh? Why did you chose Seirin then?” Murasakibara asked as he inspected a candy.

Seijuro scoffed. “I don’t expect you to understand my reasons.”

Icy silence fell between the two ex-teammates, and old, bitter memories of their years together and how it had all gone wrong resurfaced. Once the Generation of Miracles had all been friendly, but now, Seijuro doubted that they would ever be anything but enemies.

“Ano, Akashi-kun?” a small voice called from behind him. “We- We’re about to leave... Coach sent me to find you...”

Furihata was standing behind him, looking up at Murasakibara warily. He wasn’t trembling or sweating, like he might have done a week ago, but still was obviously intimidated.

It’s a start, Seijuro decided.

“Yes,” Seijuro nodded, picking up his duffel bag. “We will see you in the Interhigh, then, Atsushi.”

“‘Kay, Bye,” Murasakibara said childishly.

Seijuro walked over to his teammate. “Let’s go.”

 


	3. Orders, Opponents, and Old Teammates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Huh. I'd thought you would go to a strong school.”

Seijuro didn't understand what was so special about a sandwich.

According to his senpai, it was the best thing since basketball, but Seijuro wasn’t convinced. It was just a sandwich.

Seijuro had gotten a text message from Riko that asked all first years to come up to the second year floor during the lunch period.

“Go buy a sandwich,” Riko ordered. “Then bring it back.”

“Huh?” A...sandwich?” Kawahara questioned.

“Actually, on the 25th of each month, Seirin’s store sells a limited number of a special sandwich-- a mysterious sandwich that makes you succeed at anything if you eat it, whether it’s love or club matters... according to the rumors,” Riko explained. “A sandwich with black iberian pig cutlets and the three best delicacies: caviar, foie gras, and truffle. 2800 yen!”

“Expensive!” Fukuda gasped. “And won’t the quality drop if you add in so much stuff?”

Riko ignored his comment. “We won against Touou. Training is going well. At this rate, we might finally be able to get that legendary sandwich! ...but we’re not the only ones aiming for it. It might be a little bit more crowded than usual.”

Seijuro noticed the obvious lie from the smirk on Riko’s face and Hyuga’s jump of surprise. He raised an eyebrow.

“Here,” Hyuga said, holding out an envelope. “Of course the second years are paying for it. Bring back lunch for everyone while you’re at it. But if you fail...”

The other first years stiffened in fear as a burning aura erupted from their captain.

“You can keep the change. We’ll just increase your amount of muscle training and footwork by three times.”

Izuki stepped forward, patting Hyuga on the shoulder. “If you don’t hurry, they’ll run out. It’ll be alright, we did the same thing last year. It’s just buying a sandwich.”

X X X

Getting the sandwich wasn’t as hard as the second-years had made it out to be. With a couple well-placed glares, Seijuro and the three other first-years cut through the crowd easily, making their way to the front and purchasing the sandwiches they needed.

The second-years weren’t exaggerating really -- the sandwich was pretty good -- but Seijuro had eaten fancy food all his life. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. The other first-years looked like they were in heaven though.

Their moment of bliss was short-lasted, however, since as soon as the school day ended, the entire Seirin basketball team was back in the gym, training harder than ever despite their victory over Touou.

After an hour or so of intense drills, the captain called them all over. Koganei, Furihata, and Seijuro dropped the basketballs they were using and trotted over.

“The preliminaries of the Interhigh are beginning soon!” Hyuga announced. Seijuro already knew this, so he wondered why the captain had decided to waste their desperately needed practice time. “We were only one step away from reaching it last year, but we’ll definitely go this year!”

Ah, Seijuro realized. A pep talk. Again, do they really needed to be reminded of the goal? Why play if you’re not aiming to win?

“There are a lot of strong schools in this district, and especially the strongest opponent in the district, Shutoku High. They were in the top eight last year, and they recruited a player of the Generation of Miracles, too.”

On cue, all eyes swiveled to Seijuro. “Aomine Daiki,” he supplied before they could voice their questions. “Power Forward. The ace of the Generation of Miracles.”

“The ace?” Furihata, who was (more or less) Seirin’s ace, gasped.  

Seijuro didn’t let his facial expression change. “He’s skilled at free-form shots. He’s the fastest and most agile out of all of us, so he’s hard to stop.”

There was a moment of silence as the daunting prospect of facing such a challenge sunk in each of his teammates’ minds.

“Aomine is predictable in the very fact that he does everything himself,” Seijuro reassured them -- or at least as close to reassurance as he could get. “Passing is not an option for him. That makes it easier to guess what he’ll do.” Seijuro grimaced, wondering if he had given his teammates the wrong idea by telling them that there was even a small possibility of them predicting Aomine’s play. Seijuro was probably the only one who could, with his Emperor’s Eye and his experience as Aomine’s teammate.

His “reassurance” must have worked, because Hyuga continued on as if there hadn’t been an interruption. “Right, well, if we can’t defeat that super-strong school, we won’t get a ticket to nationals! In order to challenge Shutoku, we have to start by winning our first match! Let’s get fired up and go for it!”

His teammates shouted their approval around him, but Seijuro remained stoic. While he looked unruffled on the outside, inside he was trying to come to terms with the strange feeling of not being in charge for once. He didn’t entirely mind, but it was still very strange for someone else to be giving the inspirational speeches.

“Where’s the coach?” Furihata asked after everyone had finished yelling. He didn’t look as scared as he might’ve at the beginning of the year, but he was obviously shaking and pale. The thought of facing Aomine, the ace of the Generation of Miracles, must have rattled him.

“Well... apparently our opponent in the first match is having a practice match nearby, so she went to watch,” Hyuga explained.

“I’m back!” Riko walked in. Seijuro noticed her unhappy expression immediately and frowned.

Hyuga snorted. “Speak of the devil.”

Riko turned to the captain, her nostrils flaring dangerously. “What was that?”

“Nothing, Nothing!” Hyuga laughed off uneasily. “You seen to be in a bad mood. Is the opponent strong?”

Riko hesitated, and Seijuro moved closer to listen, interested in learning more about their first opponent. “...They have a player that’s a bit troublesome. I’ll show you video later, but look at his picture first.”

Riko held out her phone. Seijuro hung towards the back, but still tried to get a glimpse. Uhhh... that’s not a basketball player... Instead, there was a picture of a kitten displayed.

“That’s...” Hyuga began hesitantly, “...Cute, but...”

Riko facepalmed and waved her other hand at the phone. “Sorry, sorry, the next one.”

The player Hyuga was looking at must have been pretty impressive for him to make such an outraged face.

“His name is Papa Mbaye Siki. Height, 200 cm. Weight, 87 kgs,” Riko listed off. (Seijuro scowled -- wishing yet again that he was just ten cm taller, that was it just 10 cm. Anyone would feel short next to Murasakibara, but Seijuro’s 173cm seemed absolutely miniscule in comparison, so he was reminded of his height -- or lack thereof -- on a daily basis throughout middle school.) “He’s an exchange student from Senegal.”

His teammates began to shout in surprise.

“Senegal...? ...Huge!” was all Hyuga could muster.

“Is that possible!?” Izuki gasped.

Koganei yelled loudest: “An exchange student...?! Wait, sorry, where’s Senegal, anyway!?”

Seijuro sighed. “Senegal is in West Africa. And just because he’s tall doesn’t mean that he’s invincible.”

His teammates fell silent.

“It’s not just his height, his arms and legs are long as well!” Riko corrected. “But, you can sum it up with the word ‘tall’!” She sighed. “The number of schools getting exchange students to increase their battle power is increasing. The next opponent, Shinkyou high school, was a middle-rank school until last year, but by recruiting just one foreign player, they’re a completely different team.”

“If we can’t reach him, we can’t stop him,” Koganei said gloomily.

“I didn’t say there was nothing we could do, you know! Everyone will have a special training menu starting from tomorrow!” Riko smiled evilly, a glint in her eye. “The preliminaries start on May 18th! Until then, I won’t let you have any time to even whine!”

True to her word, practices became more and more brutal. Seijuro wasn’t too tired out since he was used to workouts that would bring him to the brink of death that he used to endure at Teiko, but some of his teammates (notably Furihata) were barely keeping up.

By the time the first game arrived, Seijuro was -- more or less -- confident in Seirin’s ability to defeat Papa Mbaye Something and his team.

X X X

On the day of the game, Seijuro woke up early as always to make sure he had enough time to get to the school. He grabbed a light breakfast to eat on the way and ignored his father’s jab at his “sub-par” basketball team.

Paying attention was harder than usual that day. Seijuro wasn’t sure why -- generally, he had no problems paying attention to the lessons, but today, his mind was full of plays and strategy.

He’d even gotten reprimanded. Him.

When the day was finally over, Seijuro couldn’t help but be grateful.

“Are you ready for the game, Akashi-kun?” Furihata panted. He had run to catch up with the redhead, who he’d spotted walking past.

“Of course,” Seijuro said confidently.

They reached their other teammates, who were all gathered and ready to go.

“Ah, Akashi-kun and Furihata-kun!” Riko called. “There you are!” She turned to address the team. “Alright, let’s go!”

X X X

The Seirin vs. Shinkyou game was the first of the day, so not many other teams or people were there. It was a bit anticlimactic, Seijuro realized, looking around the gym, unimpressed. With all the encouragement and pumping up that the coach, captain and senpai had done, he’d expected something at a national-scale. He mentally scolded himself for his naivete.

Seijuro kept an eye out for the one player, Siki or whatever, but couldn’t seem to find him.

“It looks like Senegal-kun isn’t here,” Furihata said, voicing Seijuro’s own thoughts.

“Sorry I’m late!” a loud and heavily accented voice called out, followed quickly by a loud, “Ouch!”

Seirin stared in shock at the exchange student, who had just hit his head on the top of the door frame while attempting to enter the gym.

“Everything is so low in Japan...” he complained.

Furihata inhaled sharply. “He’s huge!”

Siki walked toward his team, passing by Seirin. He scanned their faces, but disinterest and boredom was obvious on his face. Then, his gaze landed on Seijuuro, and he did a double-take.

“Akashi Seijuro,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Seijuro regarded him indifferently.

Siki looked him up and down before saying, “You’re short.”

Seijuro bristled angrily, and Siki shrunk back at the venomous glare. “Yes, I am short for a basketball player. It does not matter though. The outcome will not change.”

“And what is that outcome?” Siki asked, a challenge in his voice.

“We will win,” Seijuro said, in the style of someone who was saying that the sky is blue or that it’s dark at night.

Siki huffed derisively. “You can try. I came here to defeat you Generation of Miracles, and I intend on doing that.”

Seijuro scoffed internally. “You wouldn’t be able to defeat my teammates, much less me.” He copied Siki and looked his opponent up and down. “You’re too weak.”

Siki inflated with rage, but before either side could do anything, Seijuro had a palm in his face and was being shoved backwards.

“Stop arguing, idiot!” Hyuga shouted. “Don’t tell your opponent that you’re better with your words, tell them with your basketball!”

Seijuuro knocked Hyuga’s hand away with his forearm and glared murderously.

Hyuga flinched but didn’t back down. “Let’s go, we’re about to line up.”

x x x

True to his word, Seijuuro and Seirin won overwhelmingly over Shinkyo. Despite what Siki had claimed earlier, that he was going to defeat the Generation of Miracles, he was no match for Seijuro. If you take away his height, he wasn’t special at all. Seirin breezed through the next round, too, defeating Kinga High School by a margin of thirty-six points. The next round was easy also: as soon as they saw Seijuro warming up with Seirin, they switched from tough and arrogant to feeble and pathetic.

As the match was ending, Seijuro overheard a part of a conversation between some of the first-years and the captain.

“There’s the King of the West, Senshinkan, the King of the North, Seiho, and the King of the East... Shutoku,” Hyuga was saying. “There’re two games that will be played on these two courts. Today, Shutoku’s going to be here.”

“Shutoku?” Seijuro interrupted. “Here?”

No one answered; they were all looking across the court at an emerging team.

Seijuro’s scowl deepened as he landed on the bright orange warm-ups. In front was a tall, broad brunette, probably the captain if the authority he exuded said anything. He was flanked by two guys: one with shaggy hair, and the other with a buzz cut and lumpy nose. They were followed by a group of players (Seijuro immediately identified them as benchwarmers). Then, bringing up the rear was his old teammate, Aomine Daiki, and another boy Seijuro had never seen before. He was short (but taller than Seijuro, so he supposed in comparison, the boy wasn’t short -- Goddammit). He had a bright smile and grey eyes that sparkled like he knew something you didn’t. He had an arm around Aomine and was obviously teasing the ace, who was obviously annoyed by the smaller boy.

Seijuro observed the strange scene critically. The Aomine he’d known (well, third-year Teiko Aomine, that is) wouldn’t have allowed anyone to bother him like the other boy was. What had changed?

Aomine’s eyes scanned the arena judgmentally, passing over Seirin, and, by association, Seijuro, before snapping back as he realized that, yes, he had seen his former captain among a team that only formed two years ago.

Seijuro watched as Aomine knocked the arm off his shoulder and strode away from his team, ignoring his captain as he called for him to come back.

“Yo, Akashi,” Aomine called once he’d gotten within ten feet of his old teammate.

“Daiki,” Seijuro greeted, inclining his head. “It is nice to see you again.”

Aomine didn’t respond -- instead, he scanned Seijuro’s teammates. “Huh. I'd thought you would go to a strong school.”

Seijuro wasn’t fazed, since he’d expected some sort of ‘why’d you choose Seirin’ comment, but there were cries of indignation from his teammates. “Unlike you, I made my choice based on things other than basketball.”

“Eh?” Aomine sniffed. “Is that supposed t’be an insult?”

“How you take it is up to you,” Seijuro said calmly. “But I did not intend for it to be insulting.”

Aomine looked blank, but Seijuuro knew him well enough to know that he was trying to figure out the meaning of what Seijuro had said. He’d changed since Teiko, but one thing that hadn’t changed was his intelligence.

“Akashi-kuuuuuun!” a voice cried, interrupting their conversation (if it could be called a conversation). Something pink and soft crashed into Seijuro, knocking him sideways. It took a moment before he realized that he was being squeezed to death by Momoi Satsuki, the old manager for Teiko. Of course she would have joined Aomine at his school.

“Hello, Momoi-san,” Seijuuro sighed in annoyance, but still trying to be polite. He squirmed in her arms, trying to free himself from her tight grip. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“I didn’t know you went to Seirin, Akashi-kun! I would’ve come to watch your game if I knew you were playing before us!”

“Ah,” Seijuro said, a bit overwhelmed.

“Satsuki, you’re suffocating him,” Aomine drawled, looking bored. He was cleaning out his ear with his pinkie.

“Eh, Mine-chan, who’s this?” the boy from earlier approached, looping his arm around Aomine’s neck again. He inspected Seijuro, his smile bright.

Seijuro figured that if he knew Aomine, he probably knew who Seijuro was, but decided to introduce himself anyway. It was only polite, and then the boy would have to introduce himself in return.

“Akashi Seijuro.”

The boy grinned sneakily, replying only with a bright, “I know.”

There was a pregnant pause.

Seijuro’s annoyance flamed.

“Of course you do,” Seijuro said arrogantly. “But I don’t know who you are, so I decided to begin introductions. It’s a shame you can’t understand basic human interaction and courtesy.”

The boy looked surprised, then laughed, looking over at Aomine, as if he expected his teammate to find this funny also. Aomine looked bored. “Yeah, you’re one of Mine-chan’s old teammates, all right.” He turned back to Seijuro again. “Takao Kazunari. Nice to meet you.”

Seijuro said nothing in return. He looked the boy up and down critically, a disinterested look in his eyes. He didn’t see anything interesting, so he decided to excuse himself to catch up with his teammates, who were starting to make their way to the exit. “I wish you luck with your game. I have to leave, though, so if you’ll excuse me.”

Seijuro extracted himself from Momoi’s hug, walking away from the trio and walked back to his team.

“That was... interesting,” Furihata said as Seijuro rejoined him.

Seijuro said nothing, but glanced back at the trio. Aomine was yelling at Takao, something about nicknames.

“It must’ve been nice to see your old teammate again, though,” Furihata went on brightly, not caring that Seijuro hadn’t responded.

Seijuro snorted. “I wouldn’t say that,” he muttered. “We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms.”

“You and Aomine?” Furihata asked.

“The rest of them as well. I don’t think you could really call us ‘teammates’, either.”

Furihata and Seijuro fell into an uneasy silence.

“Let’s go,” Seijuro said finally, not wanting to say any more about his final year at Teiko.

 

 


	4. Arrogance, Awkwardness, and Assurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wow, you’re really scary for someone so short!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very sorry for the six month accidental hiatus…. to make up for it this chapter is slightly longer! Now that it's summer here and school's out hopefully I'll be able to update a bit more frequently...

Seijuro and Furihata rejoined their team in the stands, where they were all going to watch the game together. Seijuro wanted to see how his former teammate had improved. He sat down on the stands next to Furihata, lounging lazily.

He did wonder, though, what Aomine’s learning curve looked like, though. His talent was the first to emerge among the miracles, and Seijuro wondered if he had any more room for improvement. Sometimes, Seijuro wondered that about all the miracles. If they haven’t hit a ceiling, would they? Would he?

Seijuro set aside that thought for another time. He didn’t want to dwell on that depressing topic. He instead turned back to the game between Shutoku and some small, no-name school that Seijuuro didn’t bother to watch.

Instead, he focused on Shutoku’s players. Aomine was going through the warm-up halfheartedly, as number eight yelled at him. Normally, Seijuuro would sympathize with him since he’d spent a majority of his third year as captain getting Aomine (as well as the other members of the Miracles) to fall in line, but, good god, he seemed annoying. And weak. Takao Kazunari was standing off to the side, spinning a ball on his middle finger and laughing hysterically at number eight yelled at Aomine.

Their shooting guard, number seven, was average -- he had an accurate shot with a strange overhead form, like a football throw-in. He was standing off to the side with a basketball pressed to his head. Seijuuro could tell that he was trying to visualize, but he was distracted by his rowdy teammates. A vein kept twitching in his temple.

The captain, number four, the center, was trying to get his teammates in line. He hadn’t had any success and was unable to warm up while trying to get both number eight and Takao to shut up and Aomine to try harder.

Seijuro sympathized, but he was convinced that he’d had it worse. He’d had to deal with temperamental Midorima, idiotic Murasakibara, apathetic Aomine, and excitable Kise, not to mention Kuroko and Haizaki (who Seijuro called that idiot when in private).

Finally, the captain managed to get a proper warm-up started, but by that point, Seijuro couldn’t really take Shutoku seriously anymore.

Apparently, the rest of his team still could. “They look good,” Furihata said quietly, his eyes fixed on a certain ace. He looked shocked, amazed, and terrified all at once. “We play them soon. How can I possibly measure up with him?”

Seijuuro didn’t answer immediately. “You’ll practice. If worst comes to worst, I will face Aomine.” He glared down at his teammate, who looked up, apparently noticing the gaze on him.

“Can you beat him?” Furihata wondered, watching as Aomine dunked the ball viciously.

Seijuuro bristled at the accidental insult. “I have never lost at anything before, and I never will, because I always win, and I am always right.”

Furihata’s eyes widened in surprise.  

Seijuro turned back to the court, noticing that the game had started.

“Oh,” Seijuuro remarked. “He’s actually playing.”

“What?” Furihata asked. “What do you mean?”

“Aomine didn’t play much in Teiko, and when he did, he didn’t play seriously,” Seijuro sighed. “He got bored easily, and never found anyone that was worth his time playing.” Seijuro paused bitterly. “Eventually he gave up.”

Furihata didn’t say anything, but the worried looks on his face spoke volumes.

 

X X X

 

“Four minutes left in the second quarter and they’re already forty points ahead...” Riko remarked. “You could say as expected.”

Seijuro looked sideways at his teammates, who were all silent. Everyone had a grim expression on their face, worrying over whether they could beat this incredible team or not.

“Um, how do they make basketball look so easy?” Kawahara asked from Furihata’s left.

Hyuga slumped forward onto his folded arms. “That’s because they’re not making any mistakes,” he explained. “Basketball is a sport where the ball is constantly going around at high speed. That’s why it’s not too uncommon to fumble the ball even when you’re just trying to catch a pass. It seems like they’re good at throwing, catching and running, without mistakes. They’re doing all those moves naturally, and they aren’t messing up. If it seems easy, that’s because they’ve perfectly mastered the basics. Well, that’s just the basics, though. The other obvious reason is that --”

Hyuga pointed towards the opposing team’s goal, where captain, number four, beat out two players for a rebound before jumping up again and slamming it in the hoop, sending the two opposing players staggering backwards. One fell to the floor.

“ -- They have overwhelming scorers,” Hyuga finished.

“Awesome dunk!” Fukuda exclaimed in shock.

“Is that guy really a high schooler?” Kawahara gasped.

Seijuro tsked.

“Are you not impressed, Akashi-kun?” Furihata asked curiously.

Seijuuro frowned. “It doesn’t matter. I will not lose.” He paused. “Besides, I played with Murasakibara for three years.”

“Ah.” Realization dawned in Furihata’s eyes.

Hyuga snorted, drawing both player’s attention again. “Last year, even by himself, this guy was already unstoppable, but...”

They have him now.

All of Seirin was watching Aomine, and all but one had their mouths hanging open.

“He’s still as lazy as ever,” Seijuro said boredly. He turned to the entire team, raising his voice a bit. “It’s no use watching this. Aomine’s only playing with about a fourth of his full effort.”

“WHAT?!” Seirin cried, all turning to stare at Seijuro in one synchronized motion.

“This is only 25% of his effort?” Riko demanded. “He’s scored twenty points, and we’re only sixteen minutes in!”

Seijuro scoffed, but it was directed more towards Aomine than his coach. “I’ve seen him get eighty in one game.”

Stunned silence settled over the team.

“Let’s go,” Seijuro decided. It probably wasn’t his place to decide, but staying wasn’t helping. It wasn't good to get intimidated now. “We shouldn’t preoccupy ourselves with a team we won’t face till the finals. Let’s focus on our next opponent.”

“Oi, Akashi, who made you captain? Respect your senpai!”

X X X

“Alright, let’s go home!” Hyuga joked, but hissed when Riko smacked the back of his head, causing him to lurch forward.

“Not!” the coach yelled. “We’ve got one more match today! Are -- Are you guys stupid?!”

“We were kidding!” Hyuga sputtered. “Trying to lighten the mood?”

Seijuro watched his captain and coach, unimpressed. If he’d joked around like that at Teiko, he probably would’ve gotten his captainship revoked quicker than you could say “basketball”. It was something he was going to have to get used to.

“There are two matches today and on the last day!” Riko announced, hands on hips. “We’ve got the fifth round today at five p.m.!”

“Ugh, think about it, though,” Koganei groaned, stretching with a barely concealed yawn. “Two matches on the same day is kind of grueling, isn’t it? Even with some time in between, the fatigue still stays.”

Seijuro frowned, raising an eyebrow. Koganei was supposed to be the teammate with the most stamina. Besides, he was probably just complaining out of laziness. Seijuro glared at him and he shut up quick.

Satisfied, Seijuro turned to Hyuga, Izuki, and Mitobe, who were currently looking down at the schedule with panicked looks on their faces.

“What is it?” he asked, nonplussed.

Hyuga looked up. “Er, this is...” he looked down at the schedule, then back at Seijuro then around at the team. “The last day...”

Riko grimaced. “That’s right. On the last day, the semifinal will probably be against Seiho, and the final will most likely be against Shuutoku. We’ll face two of the kings in a row.”

There was a moment of shock. Seijuro discreetly rolled his eyes, predicting the inevitable eruption of yelling.

“Are you kidding?! The semifinal at one and the final at five? We’ll die!” someone yelled.

“Thats -- Really, don’t you think we deserve to whine about this a bit?” another teammate demanded bitterly.

Seijuro sighed. He turned to look at the captain, who was still inspecting the schedule and not making any attempt to control the team.

Rubbing between his eyes, Seijuro turned to Furihata. “I’m going to grab ice packs for us from the trainer.”

Furihata nodded. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’ll do it myself.” Seijuro waved off his teammate, walking off from his indignant team.

Ahead, Shutoku was approaching him, yelling and laughing as they made their way to the locker room for halftime. Silence fell as they caught sight of Seijuro. He made eye contact with Aomine, and the Shutoku team could practically feel the sparks flying between their glares.

“I’m going to win, Akashi,” Aomine said, sounding bored. “The only one that can beat me is me.”

“Say that stupid catchphrase as much as you can now,” Seijuro threatened, a dangerous tone in his voice that caused Shutoku’s number four, eight and Takaho to flinch back. “Because you won’t be able to after we play you.”

There was a moment about as Aomine and Seijuro stared at each other dangerously. Then, both of them moved in the same instance, striding purposefully away from the other, leaving a bewildered Shutoku in the middle.

 

X X X

 

There was no formal countdown to the day of the Seiho-Shutoku double-header, but Seijuro knew that every single person on their team was subconsciously ticking off the days until they had to play two kings in a row.

Seijuro was keeping track as well, but instead of viewing the event in an ‘Oh hell it’s getting closer’ kind of way, he viewed it as more of a ‘I should probably know when my next game is’ kind of thing.

Regardless of whether it was dreaded or anticipated, the game day arrived.

Seirin was sure to arrive early for proper warmup. Seijuro had suggested a bit longer than the coach had originally decided on, hoping that a longer warm-up would help smooth out some of his teammates’ nerves.

Maybe it would, if they would actually warm up instead of looking around in awe.

“Damn... I’m super nervous...” Furihata muttered, looking around at the number of spectators. “We’re not playing in simple school gyms like before.”

Kawahara made a small squeak of agreement. “On top of that we’ve got two matches in a row against the Kings of North and East...”

“Not to mention, they’re in a row! Winning just one is going to be hard,” Fukuda put in.

Seijuro glared at them until they got the message and rejoined warmups. It’s not going to be hard to beat Seiho, he wanted to tell them. Not only do you have me, but we watched hours of game tapes. Besides, they’re not as strong as they used to be.

Seijuro was pleased he’d managed to rope some people into warming up, until he turned to the other side and saw some of the second years and coach talking. God, can we please just warm up?

“Seiho is more normal than I expected,” Tsuchida was saying. “There aren’t really tall players there, huh?”

“Well, yeah, they have small builds for a team at the national level,” Riko agreed. “The tallest one is captain Iwamura-kun, who’s 187 cm.”

“About as tall as Mitobe-senpai?” Godammit, hadn’t he just gotten Fukuda to rejoin the warm up?

“And then there’s the control tower, Kasuga-kun. Those two third years are the pillars of the team.”

Seijuro turned to glare at the captain, wanting him to yell at the chit-chatters, but Hyuga was calmly practicing three-pointers with Izuki.

Seijuro shut his eyes and tried to breathe.

“Ah, you’re Akashi Seijuro, right?” a bright, boyish voice called out from Seiho’s side of the court. Seijuro turned, not really interested in what the other had to say, but he was hopeful that maybe the presence of an opponent could remind his team of their goal. “Wow, you’re really scary for someone so short!”

Seijuro stared at the boy in contempt and revulsion. “I’m sorry?”

The guy didn’t answer, he just turned to his teammates and jabbed a finger in Seijuro’s face.

I wonder what would happen if I broke it, Seijuro mused. I’d probably get in trouble.

“Captain! This is the guy you were talking about right?” the guy yelled. “You know, when you said that Seirin was super weak, but there was one really strong guy?”

“Stop jumping around you moron,” the captain answered, landing a solid punch on the back of his kouhai’s head. He turned to Seijuro and Hyuga, who had approached after hearing the commotion. “Sorry, this guy can’t read the atmosphere very well. He always immediately blurts out what he’s thinking.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Seijuro dismissed with an unmistakable air of condescension. “He can think what he wants. It will not change the outcome: I will win.”

Both of them stared at him as he turned away.

 

X X X

 

Seijuro could see the tension on his teammates’ faces (Even the captain, good god, doesn’t he know that a captain is not supposed to show it? It makes the whole team more tense).

A palpable pressure was blanketing the locker room. Seijuro rolled his eyes and sighed lightly, and the sound echoed through the room.

The coach, broken from her thoughts by the noise, called out to get the attention of the team. “All of you are a bit too wound up about the game, so I’ve thought of a reward to get you guys to loosen up!”

Seijuro could only think, Oh, god help me.

Riko winked, bringing a hand up in some way that was supposed to be cute. In an overly girly voice, she said, “If you win the next match... I’ll give each of you a kiss on the cheek! How about that?”

Seijuro rolled his eyes again.

His teammates looked a little reluctant, and not at all excited at the idea.

“Morons, you can at least act happy!” Hyuga snapped. “Even if you have to force yourself!”

Riko blew up in anger. “So you won’t get it unless I say it clearly, huh, retards!? We’re here to make them pay for last year, right? With one year’s interest, they owe us a lot, dammit!!”

Mitobe quickly tried to get the coach to calm down.

“Sorry, sorry,” Hyuga apologized. “We know that.” He breathed out sharply, turning to the team. “Alright! Before we go, I’ll say it again: a year has passed since then, but you’ll know as soon as the match begins that Seiho is strong! Honestly, after our crushing defeat last year, we hated basketball. Just a bit more and I probably would have given up.”

There was a depressed silence. Seijuro rolled his eyes yet again.

“Don’t be depressed! Come on, we recovered! Get fired up!” Hyuga broke the silence. “Actually, it’s an advantage for us. It definitely will be different than last year. I truly believe that. I have faith that we have become stronger. The only thing left to do is to win!”

The team yelled their agreement, then filed out of the locker room to head to the court.

“Tch.” Seijuro clicked his tongue.

He hadn’t noticed Furihata next to him until the boy asked, “What’s wrong, Akashi-kun?”

Seijuro only shook his head. I can’t exactly say what I feel about this team to a member of that very team, can I?

“Let’s go,” Seijuro ordered.

 

X X X

 

The game started slowly, and Seijuro was getting frustrated with his teammates. Seiho had done well completely shutting them down, and they couldn’t seem to break free of their marks. I wonder what it’s like being... ordinary, Seijuro wondered as he faked a pass to Furihata before fluidly entering shooting form. The ball passed through the basket perfectly.

The boy who was marking him -- the same one who had run his mouth earlier -- growled in frustration.

His defense was annoying, sure, but he wasn’t really making any progress in figuring out how to stop Seijuro. You may have confidence after yourself after beating Kise two years ago, but don't overestimate yourself. I won't be beaten by someone like you, Seijuro thought, staring down at the boy arrogantly.

Seijuro turned away from his mark, jogging back to defense. Despite the five-point lead that Seirin had, he couldn’t help but scowl. Am I the only one on this team that can do anything? he hissed mentally. I can’t carry the whole team, for god’s sake.

Apparently, the coach had the same idea. Hyuga knocked the ball from Seiho’s shooting guard's hands, sending it bouncing out of bounds, and Riko immediately jumped up to call a time out.

Seirin gathered at the bench, all solemn and quiet. And in Seijuro’s case -- irritated.

“Seiho is using old martial arts,” the coach announced.

“Old martial arts?” Furihata questioned meekly. Seijuro could practically picture the Bruce lee-esque karate moves that were currently running through his teammate’s mind, and he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t mean the same martial arts,” Riko amended hastily. “I mean, what they're really using are old martial arts movements." She paused for effect and Seijuro closed his eyes so no one could see the red and orange circle into the back of his head so far it hurt. "One of these moves is the Nanba run. Usually when you run the arm you bring forward the opposite of the leg you step with. With the Nanba run, you bring the same arm and leg forward as you run. By decreasing the amount of twisting, there's less strain on the body. It helps to conserve stamina."

It probably would decrease strain and increase stamina, but Seijuro still didn't see the worth of such a technique. Basketball has a certain rhythm to it: dribbling while moving, transitioning to the triple threat then shooting, passing, or dribbling form, and so on. In Seijuro's opinion, athletes naturally moved their limbs in opposition, and not only would relearning this take valuable time that could be better used for something else, the natural rhythm of basketball would be broken and the player would be unbalanced, even if they could perform the run perfectly. Then again, Seijuro amended, maybe it would be useful in throwing off the opponent.

"Other than the Nanba run, thanks to old martial arts, they can use all of their strength even when unsteady and move faster without becoming unbalanced," the coach continued. She might have said something else before that, but Seijuro wasn't paying attention. Oh, well. "That's the strength of Seiho."

Seijuro eyed the coach dubiously but didn't say anything. By his standards, Seiho was by no means strong. They were average.

"But it's not like they're magic or anything," Riko continued. "The opponents are high school students, just like you. They're falling for feints, and even they will fall apart if you take them by surprise."

"That means you two," Seijuro muttered to Furihata and Koganei.

The first turned bright red in embarrassment and frustration. The other flushed, swelling with indignation. "I'm trying! My mark is like 10 cm taller than me!"

Seijuro glared at him furiously. "My mark is taller than me as well--" God, he hated Koganei for making him comment about his height "--and I haven't been having any problems."

Koganei scowled. "Yeah, well you're... you!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Koganei floundered. "Y'know, the great Akashi Seijuro, invincible captain and point guard of the legendary Generation of freaking Miracles!"

Seijuro wasn't sure how to react to that. He settled on disapproval. "Why should you set a limit on yourself then?"

Oh God. That had to be the lamest, most cheesy cliche motivational speaker-esque thing he'd ever said. Seijuro just about shriveled up and died inside. He'd just been thrown by Koganei's flattery earlier. That was it.

Neither of his teammates seemed to notice the cheesiness of the line or Seijuro's mortification. Instead, both looked thoughtful.

Seijuro cleared his throat and turned away. Seijuro hoped he wasn't blushing; his fair skin always flushed easily, and even though he'd learned to hide embarrassment well, he still slipped up once in a while.

Seijuro had missed most of the coach's speech, but was able to at least hear the end.

"They're playing basketball, just like you, just like any team we'll face. As long as you're playing like usual, I'm not worried."

Of course not, Seijuro thought to himself a bit bitterly but mostly arrogantly. Even if everyone  else fails, there's still me.

"It's not time to get worried yet!"Riko finished, and team split up to go back to the court or the benches.

"Um, Akashi-kun?"

Seijuro turned, and was surprised to see Furihata, a focused and determined look on his face. His shy classmate was even looking him in the eye, and he wasn't even flinching.

"Would you mind getting me the ball?" Furihata turned to glare at his mark. "Let me go against that guy one more time."

Well this was a surprise. Had Furihata finally found some resolve within himself?

Seijuro nodded curtly, hoping that his teammate was finally ready to play seriously.

"You have some sort of plan, I hope?"

Despite the underlying threatening tone in Seijuro's words, Furihata remained determined even as he answered, "No. But he's just a guy like me, right? I just have to be better than him I guess."

Seijuro sighed. It was the best he could get at that moment.

Play resumed, and like he'd promised, first chance he got, he passed the ball to Furihata. The normally shy, submissive boy looked more fired up and serious than Seijuro had ever seen.

Furihata faked to the right before spinning out, using a change of pace to speed past his defender and then did a series of crossover dribbles to break through the back up before --Seijuro could feel his jaw hanging open, but he wasn't embarrassed since everyone else's was too -- dunking the ball into the hoop.

Not even I expected that, Seijuro thought wryly. Finally, all that time I spent training him is finally yielding some fruit. I'm glad it wasn't a waste...

"N-nice, Furihata!" Hyuga shouted weakly, still stunned.

Seiho was quickly getting over the surprise and starting to counter.

"Get back!" Seijuro commanded. "Defense!"

That got through to his torpid teammates. They finally snapped out of their shock and hurried to get back on their marks.

"Don't let go until the end," Seijuro ordered.

X X X

The game flow had finally turned Seirin's way, so it was a surprise when, the next quarter, Seijuro and Furihata were both subbed out.

At first, Seijuro was annoyed, but they did have a twenty-two point lead. He’d take a rest for now and hope that his senpais could hold out long enough to win. He didn’t have high hopes, so Seijuro was sure to be prepared to go back in the game.

It turns out he didn't need to be. In the end, even though it was by a mere margin of three points, Seirin came out the victor.

"The senpai really did their research," Furihata murmured to Seijuro on the sideline as the players lined up. "They were used to all of Seiho's attacks by the end."

Seijuro made a noise of assent. "It is important to make up for a lack of natural skill through effort." Under his breath, he added, "Of course, there is only so far one can go..."

Seijuro looked sideways at his teammates, and was surprised to see some of them -- a couple of the senpais -- were tearing up.

"Why are they crying?" Seijuro asked Furihata, disgusted.

"Apparently they got creamed by Seiho last year," Furihata explained, smiling slightly at their celebrating teammates. "That's why we were switched out. The senpais needed their revenge."

Seijuro's face darkened. Furihata shifted uncomfortably, but he didn't look as scared as he normally did. Progress, Seijuro decided.

"If they hold on to petty grudges from the past they'll lose their grip on the future," Seijuro scowled. "They need to let go or else we should just give up now."

Furihata shrugged, his face gentle. "U-um, yes, but, erm... I think it's also important to be able to overcome things that knocked you down. It boosts confidence and helps a player to grow. You -- er, you might not understand, though, just because -- well, I mean, you haven't really lost."

Seijuro said nothing. His teammate had a good point. Perhaps Furihata wasn't as obtuse as Seijuro had thought... He could use this...

"Well, a-anyway, they overcame it, so they'll be able to move on," Furihata added hastily, assuming that Seijuro's lack of reply implied that he was upset that Furihata had disagreed with him.

"Yes. It's best to put this game behind them as soon as possible," Seijuro agreed. "Seirin is up against Shutoku and Daiki next, and if they aren't fully immersed in the game, they might as well not step on the court at all." 


	5. Tension, Tactlessness, and Tumult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re going to have to try a bit harder if you even want to consider beating me."

The hour between the Seiho and Shuutoku games were spent quietly in the locker room. Most of the team -- especially those playing the majority of the back-to-back games -- sat silently on benches or against the lockers, trying to rest their legs before the big game. There was an atmosphere of worry again, like there had been before the first game, but while that tension had been like a looming storm cloud, this tension was sharp and piercing.

Seijuro leaned against the lockers on the floor, arms crossed across his chest, eyes closed and lost in thought.

Seijuro wasn't nervous. He was, admittedly, a bit trepidatious about Furihata's ability to handle Aomine, but knew that if worst came to worst he could swap from their point guard -- who was average at best -- to his former teammate.

A yell from the coach interrupted Seijuro's thoughts. He cracked one eye open to look at her. "Put on your jackets so that you stay warm, and be sure to stretch out a bit, just be careful!” she called. “I have some supplements for muscle fatigue and energy! I'll be massaging your feet, so everyone take off their shoes!"

Seijuro already had his jacket on of course, and wasn’t feeling sore. He would rather have some time for rest. He shut his eye again and tried to zone out the unsettling atmosphere in the room. His teammates all  wanted to skip the anticipation and just play already, but also more time to rest, which resulted in an uncomfortable tension that set everyone on edge. Even Seijuro, who wasn’t feeling any sort of nerves himself, was unsettled by his teammates’ anxiousness.

He wasn’t able to get much rest by the time the coach gave the twenty-minute warning. He opened his eyes with a sigh, rising to his feet. He began to walk around the locker room, trying to get the blood flow going again and his head back into basketball. He stretched absentmindedly, looking around at his teammates to make sure they were doing the same.

Seijuro straightened from his toe-touch as the captain announced, “All right, ten minutes left before the game! Let’s go warm up!”

 

* * *

 

The crowd exploded as both teams emerged and went to their respective sides.

Seijuro didn’t bother making contact with Aomine as they came out at the same time, but Aomine didn’t even look at him either. He might’ve been fooled by Aomine’s forced nonchalance if his teammate didn’t seem like he was making it extremely obvious he was pointedly not looking at his old captain.

The two teams gathered in a huddle on their respective sides for a pump-up speech from their captains.

Seijuro’s eye twitched as Hyuga started his speech with, “Haa... I’m tired!”

_You can’t tell your teammates that! Once the captains shows weakness, the rest of the team will hesitate!_

“I’ve been down since this morning, y’know... Two matches in a row against the kings... When I remembered that we still had another match if we happened to win against Seiho...” Hyuga inhaled and smirked. “But there’s only one match left. We don’t have to hold anything back now. Get fired up — there’s only one thing left! We’ll throw everything at them and take them down!”

“Yeah!” Seirin cheered in agreement. They broke up, the reserve players moving to the bench and the starters — Seijuro, Furihata, Hyuga, Mitobe, and Koganei — heading out to the court to line up.

“Will Seirin create a miracle and defeat two kings in a row?” the announcer cried. “Or will Shutoku defend its position as the King... This is the final!”

 

* * *

 

The beginning of the game was what Seijuro more or less had expected: after a storm attack from both sides, each team was reserved with their plays, trying to feel out the opponent before making any risks. Neither wanted to lose control of the momentum of the quarter, and a hasty attack with poor planning would do just that.

Aomine had been relatively quiet, which was the only reason why Seirin was leading by five points. Seijuro knew this passive play wouldn’t last long — Shutoku was probably trying to lull Seirin into having a false sense of security and forgetting about their ace before surprising them.

The whistle blew as Mitobe and Shutoku’s captain fought over a loose ball and ultimately knocked it out of bounds. Seijuro drifted towards Furihata while keeping an eye on Shutoku’s point guard, Takao or something.

“Stay close to Aomine,” he hissed in his teammate’s ear. “They’ll probably try to surprise us with a sudden play.”

Furihata nodded resolutely, but it only made him look childish. Seijuro didn’t have high hopes for Furihata successfully dealing with Aomine, but he hoped that his teammate could at least do something.

The play Seijuro had been expecting happened soon after, five minutes before the end of the quarter. Takao passed the ball to Aomine, who immediately dodged around Furihata and slammed the ball in the net, causing the entire backboard to rattle.

Seijuro sighed. Furihata hadn’t even been able to move. In fact, he stood frozen now, stunned by the sheer power of the Shutoku’s monster forward.

After that, the game flow changed dramatically. Furihata was unable to keep up with Aomine at all, and every failure to do so rattled the delicate first year even further. Seijuro decided not to switch marks yet, wondering if Aomine, similarly to Seiho’s forward, would draw out some of Furihata’s latent abilities. So far, there was no indication of this happening. Furihata was playing well, but, even at his best, he was no match for Aomine. Furihata’s hesitation made him useless on both offense and defense, and Aomine had him on lock-down with his defense. Suddenly, Seirin was playing a man down, and as one tear appeared, further stress only causing the hole to worsen.

The end of the first quarter was a much-needed reprieve for Seijuro, who was carrying Seirin on his shoulders with thirty out of their thirty-nine points and his emperor’s eye. If only Shutoku didn’t have Aomine, that would have been enough, and Seijuro probably could’ve carried his team through, no problem. With Aomine though, it wasn’t enough, and Seirin was losing by twelve points.

“This isn’t working,” Seijuro spoke up. “Furihata can’t deal with Aomine, and it’s dragging the rest of the team down. I’ll cover Aomine.”

The brunet deflated at Seijuro’s dismissal, but Seijuro didn’t look over at him.

The coach considered this for longer than Seijuro really thought she had to. “Alright. Furihata-kun, you’re out. I’m sending in Izuki.” She turned to the second-year. “You’ll cover Shutoku’s point guard on defense. On offense, you’ll start with the ball; Akashi, you act as a forward. Basically, just go where’s needed. We haven’t practiced a two-point-guard system, but work together for passing to get around the defense.”

Seijuro was a bit disgruntled to be replaced as point guard — he was perfectly capable of acting as point guard and marking Aomine, thank you very much — but he acquiesced, knowing that this was the best way to deal with Shutoku and Aomine.

“Their point guard has incredible vision of the court,” Seijuro said, making eye contact with Izuki so that the other boy would know whom he was addressing. “Probably better than yours.” But not mine. “You’ll have to be careful with him.”

Izuki looked confused. “Should I take that as a compliment?” he shook his head. “Not the time, right. I’ll do my best.”

Seijuro nodded before turning back to the coach, raising his eyebrows as if to say, all yours.

She took a deep breath, switching gears. “We’ll stop Aomine!” she said —  it was good to be optimistic, but not naive. Seijuro frowned. “I know you’re all tired, but keep it up!”

Seirin gathered around for a cheer, Seijuro participating half-heartedly before turning and heading out to the court. When he passed Takao and headed towards Aomine, Shutoku didn’t look surprised. It was obvious that this was going to happen.

“Akashi,” Aomine greeted. “Finally, some good competition. I wasn’t even trying that hard, ya’know?”

Seijuro looked over at his teammate. “You’re going to have to try a bit harder if you even want to consider beating me."

Aomine grinned, looking feral. "Bastard."

The whistle blew, shrill and long, and the quarter began with Shutoku in possession.

It was a tough match. It was by far better than the first quarter, but, even with Aomine successfully contained by Seijuro, Shutoku far outmatched Seirin. Seijuro couldn’t do much apart from guard Aomine, though. As much as he loathed to admit it, his former teammate was not an easy opponent.

By the time the buzzer sounded, announcing the end of the first half, Seijuro was officially concerned.

Mitobe couldn’t keep up with their captain, and Izuki, like Seijuro had thought, couldn’t match Takao’s vision and court sense. The only person that was doing well was Hyuga, who was the only one scoring consistently.

“Koganei-senpai,” Seijuro caught him by the arm at the bench. “If you keep missing shots, you’re just giving the ball to the other team.”

“Hah?” the boy cried, looking offended, but sheepish. He knew Seijuro was right, but he didn’t like hearing it out loud. Their other teammates looked at the pair with wide eyes, all thinking along the lines of,  _who says things like that?_

Seijuro didn’t care. “Their center is very good, and if you keep missing shots, we’ll lose all the rebounds.”

“Are you implying that Mitobe won’t get rebounds?” Koganei asked slowly.

Seijuro tilted his head unblinkingly. “I suppose so. He’s having trouble with number four.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do now?” Koganei demanded, his face flushed and body tense. “It’s not like I can work on my accuracy between now and the second half!”

Mitobe appeared behind his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Seijuro reproachfully, but didn’t say anything. He never said anything, anyways.

“Don’t rush. Calm down. Take a breath before shooting and relax,” Seijuro listed. “Feel it in your muscles.”

Koganei frowned. “That makes no sense.”

Seijuro flushed. He’d just repeated some of the things he’d heard Midorima and Aomine say, so maybe it wasn’t his fault per se, but still, the point guard hated hearing he was wrong in any situation.

“Just relax and calm down. Don’t rush your shots, don’t be hasty and take shots when you’re covered or have a bad angle,” Seijuro repeated. “Don’t think too much, use muscle memory.”

“Oh,” Koganei said idiotically, his brow furrowed. “I can do that.”

Seijuro rolled his eyes and turned away, following the rest of the team off the courts and towards the locker room.

 

* * *

 

What Seijuro hadn’t seen was a group of five people sitting just behind the Shutoku basket, all dressed in blue warm-up suits. It was impressive that he hadn’t noticed them, even over the roar of the crowd, because the group was making a considerable amount of noise.

One, a boy with bushy eyebrows, was yelling about rebounds. Those around him flinched away and covered their ears. Another boy with dark hair and a severe expression was yelling at him to sit down and shut up and _what the hell, you idiot, we aren’t even playing so give it a rest!_ He didn’t seem to notice that he was only adding to the din.

Another, a boy with shiny hair and narrow eyes, was yelling after a group of girls who were full-out running in the opposite direction. He looked distraught, and the only reason why he wasn’t pursuing them was another boy sitting next to him, tall with dark hair and eyes, was holding on to his jersey. Next to him was the only one of the five that seemed to be paying the least bit attention. This boy was sitting forward on his chair, gripping the armrests so hard his knuckles blanched. His eyes were wide, and he hadn’t blinked since the start of the quarter just so he wouldn’t miss anything -- Aomine and Akashi’s play was so fast that even a split second may have resulted in losing sight of the ball. His mouth hadn’t shut since the beginning of the game, but nothing came out of it, unlike the mouths of some of his rowdy teammates.

“So this is the Generation of Miracles then...” he whispered to himself, his voice increasing in volume as he got more and more excited.  “Ha, Amazing... Amazing! I want to play them now! I’ll take these guys down and be the number one in Japan!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, but at least it wasn't six months this time. Yay me...? 
> 
> Anyway, tell me what you think. Feedback is a big motivator for me so pleasepleaseplease. Also, let me know if you want to see more furihata/akashi cause i wasn't planning on putting any ships in here but with enough support i could change my plans. 
> 
> thank you for reading!!


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